


Tony Stark and the kid who'd do anything on a dare

by serenityandtea



Series: Various Marvel One-Shots [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Chris Evans' pornstache, Fluff, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Parent Tony Stark, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:00:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28898580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenityandtea/pseuds/serenityandtea
Summary: Peter's broken his ankle because someone dared him to jump off the Statue of Liberty and Tony just can't with this kid."An unknown man with a hideous mustache dared Spider-Man to backflip off the Statue of Liberty and you just went for it even though you knew your web-shooters were malfunctioning?"
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Various Marvel One-Shots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2047823
Comments: 4
Kudos: 58





	Tony Stark and the kid who'd do anything on a dare

**Author's Note:**

> When you get the prompt "the man with the mustache told me to do it" and your friend tells you Peter should jump off the Statue of Liberty, this is what you end up with *shrugs*. Some soft!Tony and can't-say-no-to-a-dare!Peter with a side of Morgan is all you need sometimes.
> 
> Enjoy :)
> 
> Disclaimer: Don't own any of these characters or places mentioned in this. Apologies to Chris Evans, but I couldn't resist.

“The man with the mustache told me to do it.”

“An unknown man with a hideous mustache—if Karen is to be believed—dared Spider-Man to backflip off the Statue of Liberty and you just went for it even though you knew your web-shooters were malfunctioning? Because you had just barely escaped an armed robbery an hour earlier? I’m not sure if they teach high schoolers anything these days, but the Statue of Liberty is 305 feet. That’s 23.47 times taller than any building or monument you should be jumping from _without your web-shooters_.”

Peter shrugs from where he’s lying in the hospital bed. “I usually stick the landing.”

Tony can’t.

He can’t with this kid.

It takes everything in him not to start yelling about how irresponsible Peter’s actions were, how he could’ve ended up with a lot worse than a broken ankle, how Tony only just got him back and that Peter can’t just go throwing himself off landmarks because Tony isn’t sure how much more his heart can actually take. So instead of saying what’s on his mind, he carefully tucks the sheets a bit tighter around Peter.

He makes sure the end covers the naked toes that are peeking out of the cast, because wouldn’t it just be great if Peter caught pneumonia on top of everything else? Covered toes means Tony won’t catch it quick enough if they turn blue though, so maybe they should be out in the open. Perhaps he can fabricate something that would act as a see-through sock, leaving the hot air trapped so Peter’s toes don’t freeze off, but giving him a visual in case the cast does cut off his blood flow. He’s been working on that transparent fabric for Barton’s sleeves, maybe he can borrow that idea, perhaps a different thread count—

“Mr. Stark— Tony, I am fine.”

Tony looks up from where he’s been staring at Peter’s foot and flicks his eyes up to the kid, snapping out a “you’re obviously not, or you wouldn’t be lying here” before he can even think. Peter cowers back against his pillows, a frown on his face, and Tony takes a deep breath, squeezing the spot between his eyes with his thumb and finger.

Deep breath, one, two, three…

A year ago, he was pretty sure that Morgan would be the one to turn him grey, but turns out a teenager will do the job just as well.

“I’m sorry.”

Peter’s voice is quiet and still seems to take up the whole room. Something inside Tony breaks at that. Peter’s actions are a constant reminder that he’s still that; a teenager. A teenager who got dusted, lived in limbo for god knows how long, and returned to earth, only to realize that five years had passed and most classmates had graduated, his aunt had gotten married, and one of his teammates had died and come back. A barely seventeen-year-old who went through something traumatic and somehow still manages to fight for the little guy. Tony—and May—should count their lucky stars that Peter jumping off things as Spider-Man is the worst they have to deal with; he could be drinking himself to oblivion instead.

“No, it’s…” Tony sighs, sitting down in the chair next to Peter’s bed. “You don’t have to be sorry, alright? Just—maybe don’t do that again. Or at least test first if your suit isn’t malfunctioning. Maybe you should start taking that girlfriend of yours out on patrol. She seems like she’s got a good head on her shoulder. Maybe she can talk some sense into you when you’re about to do something as stupid as listening to a man with a mustache.”

“You have a mustache.” Peter grins, his head turned on his pillow. Tony flicks him in the forehead.

“A goatee. So you should definitely listen to me. It’s the superior facial hair. Much better than, let’s say, a creepy pornstache.”

“Dare you to say that to Steve’s face.”

Tony raises his eyebrows at Peter. “What’s in it for me?”

“I’ll let you upgrade the suit with whatever safety protocol you’ve already come up with since they wheeled me in here.”

“Nice try, but that’s happening anyway, kiddo,” Tony snorts, handing over a juice box when Peter makes grabby hands for it. There’s a couple of snacks on the nightstand as well, courtesy of Bruce, and Tony has no doubt that once they move Peter to his own bedroom in a bit, it won’t take more than half an hour before his little friends come storming in with all the snacks, too.

He unwraps a Snickers bar for himself as he waits for Peter to mull over what it’s worth to him for Tony to tell Cap that that rodent he’s growing on his upper lip wouldn’t look amiss on specific Pornhub pages.

“I’ll clean the workshop for the whole week.”

“That’s what MESS is for.”

Peter groans. “But I can do it so much better, I promise. Please, Tony. A whole week. I’ll even stock the fridge and everything. And stay away from Bruce’s side. But you gotta say it straight to his face.”

Tony pretends to think, because if there’s anything he’s learned from having a toddler, it’s that sometimes the anticipation makes it that much sweeter.

“Fine, deal.”

“And I want to see it,” Peter adds immediately and Tony sighs, because teenagers are the literal _worst_.

“Want to see what?”

Tony’s eyes flick to Pepper, who’s leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. She looks immaculate in her dark-blue suit and bare feet, heels hanging from her fingers—and they really need to have a talk about her not wearing shoes when she’s not working because _this is the medical wing_ and just thinking about the germs makes him break out in a sweat—but the tight lines by her eyes show Tony that she’s at least as affected by this, if not more, as Tony. He’ll never admit it to another living soul, but the rush of affection that goes through him at the image she poses is ridiculous.

Here she is, fresh out of a meeting that Tony knows took over five hours, and ready to move heaven and earth for a kid that she’s got absolutely no ties to, except for the fact that Tony is weirdly attached to him. She’s got that no-bullshit look on her face, her gaze already travelling over Peter’s body to check him for any additional injuries Tony might have forgotten to tell her about when he had texted her in a panic.

“The, uhm, the— the bone that was sticking out. From my ankle, I mean. There was a bone sticking out. Which I know because Tony told me. So I want to see it. The bone.”

It takes Tony all that he’s got in him to not groan, because can the kid be any worse at lying? You’d think that someone with a secret identity would know how to tell a little white lie, or at least be able to talk around the truth, but maybe Tony should leave him alone with Natasha for a couple of hours. Peter might learn something.

In a favor to what Tony is sure is them both, Pepper plays along. “Let’s not do that, huh? I just spoke to the doctor and she says you’re free to go, if you make sure to keep that leg elevated. She also said something about injections, but I’ll get you the info on that and then Tony can get you upstairs.”

Within the blink of an eye she’s gone again, and Peter stares at Tony, eyes wide.

“Injections?”

“Welcome to facing the consequences of your actions, kiddo.”

***

It’s a disaster in the making, but Tony’s got both his hands on his daughter’s shoulders, carefully steering her in the direction of the living space as she precariously holds a basket that is filled to the absolute max. Apparently, she’s big enough to carry it herself, so Tony just hopes his reflexes are still fast enough to catch it when it inevitably falls.

Peter’s grin lights up his whole face when he sees the two of them shuffling in and there’s a second where Tony thinks Morgan is going to trip over her own feet in excitement and send them both sprawling on the floor, but he manages to make her stay upright with a slightly tighter grip. She glares over her shoulder and Tony holds up his hands in defeat and watches as she wobbles in Peter’s direction.

He’s laid up on the enormous sofa in the common room—Tony mostly hopes the other Avengers will remember Peter is there so they can provide him company whenever his friends are at school—and his bright red cast is elevated on what Tony can only assume is some sort of massive Hulk plush toy. Tony winces as Morgan basically dumps the basket on Peter’s lap.

Peter doesn’t even seem to react, instead holding his hand up for a high-five.

“Morgana!” he says, practically yells, and it always does weird squirmy things to Tony’s inside to see the two of them together. They always ruin it by being so goddamn loud, though. If Pepper ever suggests adding another to the mix, he’s putting his foot down.

“Petey!” Morgan replies with just as much enthusiasm, and sure, Tony had the ‘be careful, he’s hurt’ speech right before they walked in, but apparently that’s all forgotten in favor of cuddles. “I made you a get-well basket because Mommy said that you were hurt.”

“Aww, thanks, Mouse. What did you get me?”

In true Stark fashion—that is, with zero patience and a need for instant gratification—Morgan tips the basket over on Peter’s lap, already holding up several snacks, followed by Banana the Toy and a drawing of what Tony can only assume are Peter and Morgan.

“And Daddy is going to help me cook your favorite dinner, because I can’t do the stove by myself, but you need noodles with dinosaur nuggets and alphabet soup.”

“Oh, do I?”

“Yes,” Morgana says with that stubborn tilt to her chin that comes straight from Pepper. Just for that, Tony will make sure that Pepper doesn’t skip out on dinner tonight.

“Well, I’m sure I’ll feel loads better after that.”

Peter tucks Morgan a little closer into his side, lifting the blanket so she can snuggle up against him, and he sends a pleading look over her head. Tony shakes his head in reply, because oh no, this one is all on Peter.

‘Alphabet soup’ he mouths at Peter and he can see the full body shiver from his spot by the door. Then, because he is nothing if not an asshole, even to his teenage kid, he says: “I’m going to go find Cap and then dig some dinosaur nuggets out of Barton’s freezer. Do we want applesauce with that as well?”

“Tony, no—”

“Yes! Daddy, yes! Pretty please and thank you.”

Tony throws a wave over his shoulder as he tells FRIDAY to watch the two of them.

“Tony, I was allowed to watch!” Peter yells from the couch as Tony steps into the elevator.

“Pull up a screen and you can!”

“But then FRIDAY will just censor the whole thing because Morgan is here!”

Tony grins as the motions for the doors to close. “Guess you’ll never know then.”

He does talk to Steve but doesn’t mention a word about his pornstache because Barnes is right there and no thank you. Barton has got three bags of dinosaur nuggets so Tony steals one and spends close to two hours overseeing dinner preparations while Pepper coaxes Peter into injecting himself in the stomach with something to prevent blood clots. That evening, when everyone is tucked up in bed and Tony has checked on Peter thrice, he sneaks into the labs and claps his hands twice to wake FRIDAY up.

“Alright baby, let’s open a new project folder for the kid and transfer everything we have on the properties of the fabric I’m working on for Barton.”


End file.
